


Rowan's Descent into the Abyssal Plane

by Norver



Category: Original Work
Genre: 45 pages of spite, Senior year in highschool I noticed my English teacher did not have a page limit, She now has a page limit, long story short, spite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 09:30:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norver/pseuds/Norver
Summary: A hero's journey story that was written two years ago. It's not that bad and I'm also going to be illustrating it soon online, so obviously there will be some changes, but you know. meh.Anywho...A young woman unwillingly starts on a journey she was destined to. She picks up some help on the way, and learns that she's pretty good at stabbing things, too bad she just wants a simple life as a grave's keeper.





	1. Prologue

_ Prologue _

For many years there had been a new faction of corrupted knights wreaking havoc on the lands of Ceinna, destroying those that wished to oppose them or those that did not bow to the leader of this faction, this Wolvesfire. Basewin the Destroyer, leader of the Wolvesfire, the horrid demon, this being so monstrous that none dare tell of his appearance.

The one little hamlet known as Cloister, once so full of life and prosperity, now a desolate grave tended by only two. A child, and an old man. Both having been the only survivors of the Village of Cloister, the child having no knowledge of it, being only a wee babe when the destruction occurred. The other being an old ex monk, one that had lost faith, the great uncle of the child.

Bardof the forester, barely managing to flee into the forests of Cloister with the bundle of a baby, from his niece who begged him to take care of the newborn child. Shortly after the siege an old man had sought him out. Anselm the blind seer sought out Bardof, telling him of the heroic deeds this child would accomplish in the future. 

With instructions of Anselm, Bardof raised the child in the wild and ruins of Cloister, teaching her of the ways of hunting, fighting, and reverence of nature. This child taught as though a boy, knowing nothing of the outside world, only of what Bardof the ex monk has taught.

Rowan, the child of great promise, the child that has no corruption, knowing only of the world of Cloister Forest. Still a mere child in the world even at the age of fifteen, never knowing of the dark past of the ruins and graves she and Bardof tended dutifully. Nor the trials that she would face in the near future.


	2. Part One

_ Part One _

“Uncle Bardof, don’t over do it! I can work more than you, just relax,” The teen said with a frown looking towards the old man who leaned heavily on his wooden staff. The teen was a girl, small yet sturdy. White hair falling down to her shoulder blades, wooden beads with a few glass beads threaded through some strands. Amber brown eyes shining with annoyance, with a small piece of hair falling from the twist that held back her bangs.

Clad in a burlap robe common for monks with a sash tied at the waist to hold a few bags, she had on tan leggings underneath with a light green long sleeved shirt for the crisp morning. Feet bare except for worn wrappings that only cover the middle of her foot, one could miss take her as a boy if one did not look past the dirt smudges on her face.

“Child, I am not as fragile as you may think, what happened to respecting your elders,” The old man withered in wrinkles said, with mirth hidden in his eyes. Clad in a similar robe, the man sat hunched over, clutching to a sturdy staff made of oak, on top of a flat stone.

With a huff the girl stooped to pick up the large stick on the ground that had two buckets strung to it. Placing the sturdy stick onto her shoulders, she made a pointed look over to the old man,”Uncle, you’re not as young as you once were. I’ll be back with the water. Then we can tend the graves.”

“Rowan, be careful child,” Bardof called back with a tired sigh as he relaxed more into the rocks in the clearing. The girl walked across the small clearing that had been their home for many years that consisted of a small plot for gardening, and a small cave made from a small rocky outcropping at the base of the mountains that dominate Cloister Forest.

Footsteps light and near soundless, Rowan continued to the nearby stream that carried down from the mountain, listening to the sounds of bird calls and squirrels quarrelling around her. A peaceful day with nature, a remedy that makes even the most restless souls want to linger for a bit longer.

‘The laundry will need done tomorrow, and the graves will need to be tended to. The flowers will need to be replaced with fresher ones. We’ll need to start stocking up for the cold season as well,’ she thought as she made her way through the brush, spotting the stream of fresh water.

Lifting the large stick over her head and sitting the buckets on the ground, Rowan proceeded to fill the buckets with water before replacing the stick under the handles. Hefting the stick over her head and putting the weight on her shoulders, she proceeded the trek back to the clearing.

It took much longer than getting there, having to step over the roots of trees, and attempting to not make much noise as to not disturb the wildlife. When she arrived she saw the Bardof was missing, along with the straw broom they use to sweep leaves from the graves.

With a frustrated breath, she smiled despite herself before carrying the water over to the tilled land. Lifting the stick over her head, she carefully lowered it to the ground not wanting to spill any water and having to make a second trip to the stream.

Pouring the water over the fertile soil, Rowan made sure to water all the crops before depositing the buckets and stick into the little cave house before leaving to the ruins and graves. ‘That old man is just incorrigible…’ She thought as she traversed her way through the dense forest.

Pausing for a moment, she took note of how quiet the animals around her were, the crickets no longer chirping, the birds not singing, even the squirrels were no longer scurrying. Anxiety settled in the pit of her stomach as she continued on towards the graves that Bardof himself had made.

The sounds of voices in the distance were made known, unfamiliar and unwelcome. Slowing even further with a hand reaching for the silver dagger hanging from her sash, Rowan moved forward, careful not to make a sound.

Dropping to a crouch, she moved behind a bush when she heard her uncle speak, “I have no knowledge of any other that dwell here other than myself! Begone and leave me to my peace, you have taken the village already, leave me to my penance, to tend to their graves.”

Bardof was hunched more, gripping onto his staff with a white knuckled grasp. There were three with him, all men in dark colored armor from head to toe. Three horses accompanied them, with one off and leading his by the reins.

The one on foot shifted to look the old man over,”You do not look like much, more like a fool. Seems as though Mage Alester had sent us to the wrong place. Does not look like one that would cause our lord any harm. So say monk, who be your lord, who do you bow your head to?”

The man was mocking Bardof with his hands on his hips, obviously enjoying the man hunching even more, not meeting his eyes,”I am a man of no faith, I bow my head to noone, no lord. I may have been a piteous man once, but now? No more.”

The knight clad in darkness turned and paced for a few turns, Rowan shifted slightly, ready to jump out at a moment's notice to help her beloved uncle, but a sharp glance in her direction from Bardof’s sharp brown eyes made her still once more.

The knight stalked back over tilting his head to the side, sword in his grasp,”So the monk is no monk, but an ex monk. Either or the mage told of a person residing in this forest that would seek harm to our lord. He would be very disappointed if we do not carry out our duties.” With a quick thrust of a sword, it embedded the old man through the chest.

Collapsing to the ground, gasping for breath Bardof stared solemnly up at the knights. “Now that the deed is done, let us leave the monk in his peace, to find his rest among his dead. Let us go make merry men, we are not needed back for several days,” The leader said before mounting his horse, with nary a glance to the poor old monk.

They rode off leaving a dying monk and shocked teen. All Rowan could do was stare in shock before a gurgle of,”Ro- Rowan, Ch-child?” Snapping out of shock she raced forward as he laid on the ground trying to speak.

“Uncle! Please uncle don’t go! Don’t leave!” She begged cradling his head. Bardof grasped at his chest, already knowing that this day would come before looking up into the teary eyes of the child he raised.

“Y-you are m-meant for great things Rowan. I-I know you w-will make me proud,” With those words coming out in a struggle, Bardof starred back as Rowan grasped at his arms, bring one up to hug firmly. 

They stared at each other, with some Rowan begging, pleading to see if there was anyway to help, and Bardof content to die after his much long life. “Please Uncle, the-there must be something, something, some root, some salve, anything that can help! Please tell me what you need! I can help you! You’ll be alright…. I…” A soft fading voice interrupted her,”Rowan li-listen carefully now…. A man will come soon…. A blind man of the n-name Anselm…. I a-am glad to have raised such a stubborn child as you….”

Rowan gritted her teeth as his eyes slowly lost their life, the flame that made the grouchy old man so likable, before long they were glassy orbs of dull brown. Grasping onto the cooling hand Rowan took a shuddering breath, silent tears leaving tracks on her dirt smudged face.


	3. Part Two

Life had carried on even without Bardof the old ex monk. A new grave marred the ruined land, adding to the graves of the citizens of Cloister. Rowan carried on life as well, doing all that she knew, caring for the land, farming, foresting, hunting.

Though no longer was she a carefree child, but one of regret, spite, and hollowness. However she did not let those feelings consume her, for she felt no anger, only loss, she felt no vengeance, only yearning to understand. 

Why? Why kill a frail old man, who had done no wrong? Why travel all the way to a deserted village looking for someone? The only other person here was Rowan…. And she knew that she was to blame for Bardof’s death, even if it was indirectly

The day was like any other after the death of Bardof, filled with noise, but none of the banter the two had shared. Noises of the cicadas and birds always filling the air, only to be replaced with crickets and bats at night.

Rowan was at the graves as was her daily chore, sweeping old dried leaves from the stones, when the forest had quieted once more. It took a moment for Rowan to notice the silence. Glancing around she spotted a man clad in a dark blue robe making his way down the old path from the ruins of the town to the graveyard.

His eyes were a milky white, and he had a braided white beard accompanied by long silver white hair. He walked along looking straight ahead, a thin stick tapping the ground in front of him. His blue robes were rich and lined with gold embroidery, his feet were covered by fine animal fur wrapped in sinew around the ankles.

Pausing in her sweeping, Rowan waited for the man to get closer. Eyes slightly narrowed she squinted trying to discern the man’s intentions. “Young monk, do tell, what is this current place,” the man called out, stopping where the dirt path lead to the crumbled walls of the graveyard before maneuvering through a hole in the wall and walking even closer.

“Well good sir, this be the ruins of Cloister and if I may, who be you?” Rowan replied back in a polite and uncertain manner. The man’s weathered face crinkled in thought, milky white eyes staring blankly at the teen making her wonder how he knew she was there in the first place, the man was obviously blind.

“I am Anselm. I seek for the old man who resides here, Bardof is his name. I have business with him.” The woman frowned before saying,” Bardof is no more. Yes he had lived here, however a group of knights had come but two months ago, and had executed him. If you be a friend you are welcome to mourn at his grave, if you be a roughian you are welcome to your leave…” The warning was thinly veiled and the lack of shock or any emotion to hearing that the man he sought is now dead was somewhat concerning.

“I come bearing no harm child, I presume you must be Rowan Forester? If Bardof is no more, than my business is with you,” Anslem said, thin stick tapping lightly on the ground. Rowan bent down to pick up the staff that had been Bardof’s, the one thing that she kept from the man she respected, and gripped it tightly in anxiety,”I do not know of you, what business do you have with me that I am not aware of.”

Anselm raised a withered hand in an appeasing motion,”Calm child, be still. I am sure Bardof had mentioned me, at least once. I am here to speak to you of what must be done. Those knights you spoke of, they were from a faction called Wolvesfire. They are a faction corrupted by evil forces.”

Licking her lips nervously, her amber eyes danced between the man’s face, and the hand holding the stick, waiting for some sort of indication of what he would do,”What have those knights to do with me? I have no want for vengeance, only the want to be left in peace.”

“Rowan, child, I have known you since the day you were born. You were raised for this role of which you are destined to partake. You are the one that will rid this land of the Wolvesfire. These corrupted knights that scar the land, and drain Cienna of her resources.”

Rowan let the straw broom fall to the ground before gripping tightly onto the staff, hunching over slightly,”I believe you are mistaken, I am a simple graves keeper, I am not some hero,,, some heroic knight or some gifted mage, I am simply a graves keeper. Nothing more, nothing less…”

Anselm tilted his head to the side, before slowly pacing around some of the smaller headstones,”You can hunt, you can fish, you can fight, do not discredit yourself child, even if you wish not to take this endeavor, you will in the end, if not for the righteous judgment that needs to be taken, then for your poor Uncle Bardof, whom raised you with the thought of your heroic deeds to come in his mind.”

“I…. I do not….” She trailed off, staring at the ground with confusion and grief, trying to understand what the old man said. Pausing in his pace, Anselm turned to the girl before stating, “Your Uncle’s death would be in vain if you choose to refuse. You may remain here however the knights will be back, burn and raze the ruins of your town once more, and move on to other villages with the same intent. Would you squander Bardof’s sacrifice?”

With a heavy breath, Rowan looked to the ground in thought,”....No…. Fine sir Anselm… I will go on this quest, if only for Bardof, however once I am done, once these knights are no more, then I will return home, nothing more, nothing less.”

A strange smile overtook the old man's features before he motioned towards the girl, “Then if you have any items that you need, go collect them, we have many a place to be. The day is still young, and we have much ground to cover. I shall wait here until you return.”

With that the man walked over to the tattered wall that framed the outer edge of the graveyard, sitting on one of the more stable sides. Rowan slowly turned with a concentrated gaze, looking from the old man to the forest which had been her home for many years.

She had never left these ruins, this forest, not even once. Never been outside of the area of Cloister. Never have seen many persons, except a few travelers that wished to look over the graves to see if they knew of any buried.

Several minutes journey to the cave home seemed much shorter than it should have been. Maybe it was the crickets and birds chirping, or maybe it was the heavy emotions and reluctance that weighed her down. 

The only items that she owned were a spare set of clothes, a fine silver dagger, Bardof’s staff, and extra foot wrappings with spare wooden beads. Placing them carefully into a burlap sack and drawing the string, she tugged it over her shoulder to sit diagonally.

The thought of food crossed her mind, but there was much that could be foraged in nearby forests. Standing with a heaviness weighing her shoulders, it being not the bag, but the swirl of emotions circulating through her, she trudged out the cave opening.

The forest seemed more somber now, less loud, more quiet. Not an eerie quiet, more of a sad to see you go. The walk back to the blind man who was waiting seemed longer, prolonging the silence.

Making her way back to the cemetery, the old man still sat, waiting and patient. Rowan paused for a moment before walking confidently towards the man,”I am ready to part, anytime you are ready sir.”

“Good, good, it will take several hours to make it to the town of Bearhold. An old acquaintance will be there that will help in our endeavor,” Anselm stated as he jumped from the wall and started walking down the path at a surprising speed for such an old man.

“Uh… Anselm…. How do you know where we are going? You are blind, or appear to be…” Rowan said, jogging slightly to catch up with him. Milky white eyes glanced blindly over to the girl,”I may be blind child, but I see more than you.”

Using Bardof’s staff for making walking easier,Rowan kept up pace,”How do you mean?” Anselm was a patient, if not, a frank man, not one much for small talk, “I am a Seer, I see many things such as the need to get you shoes in Bearhold, lest you step on something or catch your death.”

The girls made a confused look, stumbling slightly before catching back up,”How’d you know I’m not wearing any shoes?” With a glance, Anselm sighed before saying,”You are very quiet when you walk, your footfalls are near silent. While being shoeless in the wild is acceptable, where we shall travel, it would be ideal for you to be in some footwear.”

Rowan made a face at the man before he continued,”Making faces won’t help, it will just make you appear ridiculous.” She sputtered a moment, looking at Anselm as though he had a second head.

“Bu-bu-but how’d you know I was…” “I know you better than you know yourself.”

Rowan closed her mouth quickly, lagging behind slightly, choosing to make space between the man and herself. Anselm’s lips turned upwards slightly in a smug grin as silence fell over them. Rowan unwilling to speak to the weird old man, and the old man enjoying the peace and quiet.

Several hours of walking had led them off the old dirt paths, and onto stone paved ones, a bustling town in the distance. The town had partial walls built at the two entrances of the town, with guards on the walls keeping watch. 

Anselm continued forward at a steady pace as Rowan looked wide eyed at the people running to and fro on the main street. Anselm turned slightly to the side, voice carrying, “Keep up child, do not get lost. This may be a new place for you to see, but do not get distracted. We must go see the Blacksmith of the name Eudo. He be a retired knight, and will have something of use to us.” With that he swiftly led the way through the merchants and citizens. 

Rowan jogged quickly to catch up, managing to keep his white head in her vision she caught up with the old man, glancing around at all the people, never having seen so many at once. 

Anselm stopped in front of a wooden building, the outside of it was pleasant looking. There was weathered dirt, padded down from constant walking over to the side, a pit made of stone brick lining in a circle with burning embers on the inside, an anvil on the side with a bellow built into the forge.

A man, big built and not a bit of fat on him, worked away hammering a scorching red rod, brown tinged grey hair shortly cropped and easy to manage. His clothes was a dirty cloth shirt tucked into leather braces at his arms. Blue eyes glanced up at the two standing in front of the building before darting back down to the metal that he hammered.

With a haughty huff, and a quick grip to pliers, the man tossed the heated metal into a bucket of water nearby before turning to the two waiting,” Welcome to the blacksmith for all your smithing needs, what be your need?”

“Eudo, you old fool, you know darn well why I am here,” the clipped tone of Anselm belaid an annoyed and somewhat fed up tone. The man, Eudo, blinked twice before squinting at the older man, ”Anselm my old friend! Why ain’t you a sight for sore eyes! You look the same as always! Hell, it seems I’ve aged more than you! And who might this young one be?”

Anselm stepped forward closer to the man, motioning for Rowan to follow before Eudo wrapped a friendly arm around the old man. Squeezing slightly, Eudo dropped the ancient man before turning to the white haired monk look-a-like.

“This be Rowan Forester. This is the one I spoke of before, I need to go gather some supplies, so I will leave it to you to ensure she be well armed, test her arm as well,”the seer tilted his head to the old knight before leaving the way they came, putting a hand up when Rowan went to follow.

“Ah, my apologies my lady, I thought you were a boy, I meant no harm by it. You don’t look like much, but then again, appearances can be deceiving. I am Eudo the blacksmith, the only thing you need to know of me is that I shall ensure you are well equipped.”

Rowan tilted her head slightly, giving a blank look before smiling politely and stating, “Nice to meet you as well Sir Eudo. I don’t particularly understand why I would be insulted if you were to mistake my gender… Either way, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The man grinned widely before placing a hand on her shoulders, leading her into his little home and shop, ”Well I have several pieces that will be best that you have. You’re small, and most likely won’t be able to carry much weight in armor, but I just so happen to have in my possession, something that I myself had discovered many eons ago, when I myself was just a green knight. 

An invaluable item for going against these tainted soldiers, the Besagew of Protection. This enchanted piece is something extraordinary, the wearer of this shoulder protection will never receive a fatal blow. However by no means does this mean that it would negate all damage. No you can still die of blood loss.”

He led her to the back room of the small workshop crowded with many swords, spears, daggers, and shields. He motioned for her to stay put before leaving through a small door to where his sleeping quarters were at before returning with something in hand.

A small round piece of silver armor, highlighted in gold with little engraving on it. It was scuffed and well used obviously. It was small and looked less like a piece of armor and more of a little plate used for fancy meals.

“Ah I know, doesn’t look like much but I promise that it will do just as told, but I’ll need to do would be to stud it to some leather since you probably don’t or won’t own or wear a full suit of armor. All that’s needed is for it to be worn to work,”Eudo said as he walked over to a tanning wrack, tossing the besaw onto a newby table, and grabbing some dried leather to stretch and make a belt like piece, small enough for a person to wear comfortably.

“So how does one wear something like that,”Rowan asked picking up the firm metal to look at all of its edges and the little gold trims. It looked like a plain piece of metal, not something that could protect well.

Eudo smirked lightly, eyes focused on the tanning wrack as he worked,”A besagew is a piece of armor usually worn to protect the shoulder joints, knights mount them on the front of their armor for extra protection.”

Looking at her reflection, she made a face before grinning and sitting the armor back on the table, ”Well no, I do not have a suit of armor in my possession, how do you propose I dawn this piece then good sir?”

Nodding his head in her direction he replied, “With studding a few strips of leather to the metal, I can make a belt like design. Easy to put on and to take off, you’ll be able to wear under your robes if you would prefer. Either way, it will get its job done. Now take a look around the shop, there are many weapons about and one is bound to have your liking.”

Glancing over the many weapons decorating the shop in disarray Rowan sighed before saying, “I already am in possession of a weapon, two if you include my uncle’s staff.” Pausing in his work, the brown haired man turned with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, then do let me look over the quality,” Holding a palm out, Eudo looked expectantly at the teen. With a nod Rowan took the silver dagger from the sash at her side, sitting the handle of the weapon into his awaiting hand, ”It’s a dagger that my Uncle had given my to skin animals for shoes in the cold season.”

Looking over the dagger in a practiced hand, Eudo scrutinized the metal, “It’s a fine make, looks well maintained as well, however where you will be venturing, this little pig sticker won’t be much help. A weapon with a longer reach would be better. Maybe a sword…. I think I may have something similar to this make…. Huh let me see, where did I put it.”

Standing with a hunch, the man purposely strode over to a table crowded with many weapons ranging from axes, swords, and maces. Pushing some to the side carelessly, they clattered to the ground of the shop, Eudo paying them no real mind.

A soft ‘ah-ha!’ was heard before he pulled out a short sword, silver and a manageable length for someone who was somewhat inexperienced with weapons longer than a dagger. After a moment of examining the blade Eudo nodded before turning back to the forester, twirling the short sword lightly and catching it by the blade, he held the grip to the girl.

“This be a short sword, used for cutting and slashing, going against armor this sword is perfect for getting through metal. It be small than the average sword, but has a larger range than a dagger, perfect for someone not use to much weight.”

Grasping the leather wrapped handle, Rowan tested its weight, letting some practice swings with a slight grin,”This be a good one, it is not to hard to maneuver much…” Eudo nodded with a grin, proud with himself before calling out,” Everard! Everard you lazy boy get in here! We have a guest that be needing lessons!”

Flinching Rowan jumped slightly from the loud volume, backing away and bumping into a table by accident. A stoic faced man walked through the front with an unamused look on his face. Blue eyes clashed, one being full of merry and the other of exasperation.

“Father, what I have I told you time and time again? Yelling is not required,now what is it that you need,” The young man had similar brown hair and eyes as the older, a jaw slightly more defined with a softer nose, his face somewhat stubbly, but otherwise neatly kept.

His clothes were of a cream colored and grease ridden shirt, with tan pants tucked into a pair of well worn boots. His shirt stained with obvious marks of armor, a nice sized sword in a sheath at his side. “Ah my boy! There you are, take this forester and test her hand, I have things to be done. The sword needs a sheath and I have other things to do.”

The man glanced between the teen and his father before sighing and turning fully to the girl. With a bow of respect he looked down at the white haired teen before introducing himself, “Greetings fair lady, I am Sir Everard. I am a Knight to the kingdom of Ceinna. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Nodding awkwardly with a little unsure wave Rowan replied,” It is a pleasure to meet you as well Sir Everard. I am Rowan.” The young man rose an eyebrow at the strange girl before tilting his head towards the door, motioning with his hand to follow him.

Leading the teen out the front and towards the back of the building, past the forge, there was a small yard covered in grass with some straw dummies. Motioning for her to stop, he continued to the other side of the grassy space.

“My father wants me to test your arm, I will say, we do not get many female customers, and out of those, not many that know of how to wield a weapon. Do not be ashamed if you are new at it. Practice makes perfect after all.”

Taking a stance he took out his own sword, holding it in a practiced grip Everard took note of the teen. Glancing down to the ground he rose an eyebrow when he noticed a lack of shoes before noticing her taking a more open stance, basic but a stance that is common for novices.

“Ah well, I have used a dagger before, for animals and training, a short sword is longer than a dagger though, so I apologize if I miscalculate my throws,” was all Rowan said before dashing forward, sword in a steady, if not slightly wrong, grip.

Everard dashed forward as well, both hands on the handle as the sound of metal clashing resounded throughout the small training yard. Surprisingly for someone small she had strength to back her blow.

Bending the sword slightly to the side and sliding Everard’s sword away from her person she then swiftly went to hold the smaller sword to his neck. He jumped back slightly, swinging his sword in a parry before they traded many more blows.

A small excited smile showed on the girl’s face as the little spar got more intense, blows becoming stronger and faster. Rowan had practiced with her dagger before, many times over under the guidance of Bardof. A short sword may be a bit more difficult to handle, but after a while of testing the waters it came almost naturally to her.

A resounding clash, a parry, and sliding metal was all that was heard from the training yard, both participants getting slightly winded, “I must say Lady Rowan, you are quite skilled in swordsmanship, your skill is unrefined however it is difficult to predict your movements. Had you been a knight it would have been frowned upon, but given your size this style suits you most admirably.” 

Light red dusted her already pink cheeks as she laughed lightly, “Why thank you kind sir. My uncle had trained me from a young age with a dagger, he always said that predictability will get you hurt, so adapting to a sloppy fighting style works best on one to one.” 

They both rushed forward, both at a standstill with their swords smashed together both trying to strong arm the other before the man said, “Ah I give, you have quite a good arm on you Lady Rowan, fighting seems to come easy to you.”

Both lowering their guard and stepping back slightly from each other, Everard smiled lightly while sheathing his weapon. Rowan grinned before a light tapping on the building made them turn around.

“Anselm! Your back,” Rowan said, walking towards the old blind man, leaving Everard to trail slightly behind. The old man smirked slightly before saying, “It took a bit longer than I intended. However I have the provisions needed for our journey, here.”

He tossed a sack towards the girl who caught it barely with one hand, almost dropping her sword in the other. Opening the sack she found two leather boots that looked slightly used, “Oh, thank you, but you really did not have to.”

With a huff Anselm turned around to walk into the smithery,” Nonsense child, it would not do for you to step on something sharp, I recommend you put them on and follow. We have much to do.” 

With a blink of confusion, Rowan proceeded to put the leather boots on, surprised to find they were almost her size, if not a bit too big,”Ah okay then, where is our next goal? Are we going to gather more supplies or go right for the Wolvesfire?”

Hearing the name of Wolvesfire, the forgotten Everard choked slightly and proceeded to cough as the two left to go back to his father,”Wolvsefire?! Wait! The Wolvesfire?!”

The two however did not hear his inquiry as Anselm replied to Rowan’s question, “No, it wouldn’t do to charge in with no plan, no we must find a mage known as Gailen. He is one of the only ones that can help us on this journey. From what I know of him, he is an immortal magic user that lives in the the Forest of Fear, and does not harbor a huge liking of humans, but luckily he hates the Wolvesfire more. Or at least the being that caused these corrupted knights to gain power.”

Walking inside Rowan nodded with a semi serious face before asking, “So when will we set out to find this Gailen?” Anselm paused before turning his head to the side, milky white eyes meeting amber,”As soon as we are done here, we set out later today.”


	4. Part Three

“So….. uh Sir Everard… Are you sure you want to journey with us? It is not too late to turn back,” Rowan said trailing off slightly. She was looking at the fully armored man walking beside her and Anselm.

The helmet bobbed in confirmation before a slight echoed voice came from it, “Of course fair lady, the deeds done by the Wolvesfire, they must be stopped. No one I know of is brave enough to retaliate against these evil knights, I shall journey with you, for glory, honor, and justice.”

With a snort Anselm snarkily said, “You mean for fame?” The white haired teen glanced between the two with a slightly curious look before Everard replied, “I will not lie, that is a part of my reasoning, however my honor would not allow me to sit back with an opportunity like this presented to me.”

“Then you best be prepared boy, this will not be like another venture you have had before. Right now we are traveling to the Forest of Fear to recruit a mage known as Gailen. If you are weak of heart then I recommend you leave.”

With a sigh Rowan trailed slightly behind the two as they continued to bicker back and forth with the young man saying,” Of course! I will not back down, however I am concerned with the fact an old blind man is apparently leading the way…”

Anselm huffed,straightening himself from a slouched position, ”I see more than you boy, you best remember that! I am older than your father, I am older than your father’s father! Respect your elders!” 

During the time that their bickering ensued, they had entered a fog ridden forest, giving off an eerie feeling. Rowan frowned as she tried to listen for any sounds, finding none but a few stuttering crickets playing a loud song.

Clad in new boots and a new sheath seated on a leather belt around her waist, the only other new item she had was the Besagew of Protection which was hidden underneath her robe. She looked unimpressive in any intimidation factor, the sword making her seem more of a weary traveler than a monk or wild child

“You two, be quiet. The forest is not normal. There are not many animals, but the feeling is off. Something is watching us. Be warned,” Her quiet clipped tone silenced the other two, one already knowing of what was to come, and the other only just noticing their surroundings.

“Correct Rowan, there are many creatures that humans would not dare to dream of in this forest. This forest is known for giant serpents, phantoms, and other creatures of mythical persuasion. Expect confrontation.” The confirmation from Anselm made Rowan all the more wary of their surroundings.

Everard swung his head around, looking at his surroundings and resting his hand on his sword feeling slightly embarrassed by not paying attention to the surroundings. The fog created a barrier that made it harder to see anything more than ten feet away.

“How do we know we are going the right way? How do we know this Gailen will be here…” Everard asked in a tense tone. There was something about the forest that put people on edge. Maybe it was the danger, maybe it was the lack of sight, or maybe it was just the name.

“I know my way, Gailen is here. He is a friend of mine and so long as you stay with me we shall not get lost,” came the calming voice of Anselm that was not worried in the slightest. Rowan strained to see past the barren dead trees that dotted the landscape.

Freezing for a moment as the sound of a hiss, Rowan yanked her short sword, dropping her staff, spinning around and holding it vertically, blocking the beast that bared its fangs. “Lady Rowan!” came the shocked cry of the knight before a bout of slithering was heard.

A giant snake the color of fog had its fangs clashed with her sword, venom dripping from its fangs in giant drops. Its head was half her size, and its scales gradations of grey and brown. Bright yellow eyes stared with hunger, hoping to get the meal that laid before it.

A cry of surprise behind her and a clashing of metal on bone was all Rowan needed to know that there was more than one. Pushing with all her might, she threw the serpent off before slicing at its nose. 

Hissing in pain it coiled and prepared to strike before Rowan dashed forward pressing her advantage. Slashing the eyes of the beast made it lash out, diving blindly forward, ramming into the white haired girl.

Winded but not thrown off her feet, Rowan slammed the tip of her sword through the skull of the beast, ending its life. Hurriedly yanking the sword out, she swung around to look for the other two with her. 

Anselm was batting at another giant beast with his stick, managing to poke it in the eye continuously and Everard was having difficulty with another, larger snake. Dashing forward in a surprising show of speed, the short sword was jammed into Anselm’s snake, right at the eye.

Stumbling when the beast fell on the ground, Rowan tugged her sword free before seeing Everard finishing the last snake. Huffing with exertion she turned to the old man, “Anselm, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His shoulders sagging slightly he replied,” No child, I am fine. Many thanks for your assistance though, we should not linger, the smell of blood will draw others.” Rowan’s eyes narrowed in determination and understanding with a nod.

 Grabbing her staff from the damp ground, she tucked her sword away and turned to Everard, who had a new dent in his armor,”Sir Everard, if you are well, then we must continue. Staying in one place is not a good idea.”

Leaning heavily on his longer sword, the knight nodded with a huff, “Glad to see you are fine as well Lady Rowan, I believe it would also be in our best interest to move. Lead the way.” Anselm stalked onwards without a moment's hesitation, leading the two onwards into the forest.

After a confrontation with several phantoms which they dispatched much easier than the serpents, Anselm told them they were nearing their destination. The old rickety bridge that lead over the stream was their last obstacle from what Anselm had told.

The fog was no better, but the trees here had leaves making it darker than other parts of the forest. There were no sounds here, no crickets, or small animals mulling about. This made Rowan all the more uneasy. No sounds from nature meant something bad was around, something that meant harm.

Anselm stopped a moment before turning to Rowan,” There is something I must do, follow the path and I shall meet you at the split tree, the immortal mage will be there.” Without allowing either to delay him, he stalked off into the fog with narrowed eyes.

Both were left in confusion as the old seer left them alone. “Does he usually do that?” Everard asked in an incredulous tone. Rowan hesitated before stating, “I honestly don’t know… I have only known him a short while. He was an associate of my uncle…”

Rowan, being the first to recover from the abrupt departure of their guide, turned and started to the worn down bridge. Everard followed after her, unwilling to stay alone in a creepy forest and even more unwilling to admit it.

They both were surprised that the bridge did not give under their weight before a soft melody was heard. A soft song with no understandable words. Rowan blinked slightly as the pressing atmosphere of the forest left to be replaced with a safe feeling.

Taking a step, she stopped before remembering exactly where she was. A place that was dangerous, and this voice was definitely female, not male like the mage Gailen is suppose to be. With several blinks Rowan manage to throw off the weird feeling, breaking free from whatever had caught her in the first place.

Everard on the other hand was slowly walking in a trance off the path, towards the sound of the voice. “Everard we need to continue, we are close and we need…. Everard are you listening?” Rowan trailed off confused as the knight continued on as though he did not hear her.

Rushing to him, she tugged on his arm for him to stop only to get nowhere as he continued walking forward to the left of the path and into the trees. Rushing in front of him Rowan rapidly waved her hand infront of his face before frowning at getting no reaction. 

Thinking for a moment she turned to the singing and jogged forward, intent on ending it, and hopefully freeing Everard from whatever ailment was affecting him. Keeping mental note of where the path was and tracking where she was going, she made it to a small clearing.

In the middle of the small clearing was a beautiful woman singing with long violet hair, pale ivory skin, with a white silken dress. Confusion sprung to the forefront of Rowan’s mind before the women’s red eyes snapped up to meet hers.

While the woman was the embodiment of fragile beauty, her eyes were of a monster. “Oh? I usually do not get female visitors here. My songs do not work well on them…. Well young one, do you want to be my meal for today?”

“Meal? Wh-what are you saying? Be you human or a beast,” Rowan said uncertain and somewhat fearful, hand resting on her sword. The woman tilted her head before a too wide smirk took her face showcasing the needle like teeth.

“Oh my, so you aren’t under my song. Well then this will be much fun, it’s better when they struggle anyway… as for what I am… well it won’t really matter much, I am Avice the Deceitful, a siren and your death.” The beautiful woman stood to her full height, leaning forward with sharp nails showing from her fingers.

“We shall see about that Lady Avice.” Rowan said in a steady voice, face blank and guarded. Avice cackled as she dashed forwards, nailed clashing diagonally with Rowan’s staff and sword.

“Oh such a polite young thing! I always did enjoy much banter!”

Flinging the siren’s arms away from her, Rowan yanked her short sword to the side in an offensive way, and the staff held in a defence. Dashing forward she slashed at the woman only to be blocked.

Slashing and ducking and dodging. One misstep and instead of another resounding clash, there was a ripping sound and a grunt of pain. Stumbling backwards Rowan resisted the urge to grasp her forearm which now had a long tear to it, stretching from below the wrist to a few inches above her elbow.

The cackling that ensued angered her greatly before Rowan dashed forward once more, with a hash and slash and block. Parrying the blow of the staff Avice could not block the slice that cut a line from her shoulder to her stomach, it was long and somewhat deep, and painful.

Hissing painfully Avice rose her eyes in time to see the sword coming for her heart. And then she saw nothing at all.

Panting heavily, Rowan slid her sword from the dead siren before collapsing to the ground, wiping the dirtied sword on the grass and observing her arm. Not too deep, only a somewhat thin line of blood dripping out. Nothing to worry of right now.

Tucking her sword away, Rowan swung her rugsack around before taking out her spare of wraps for her feet. They were mostly clean, having a few stains on them but otherwise would do for bandages. Tying it snuggly around her arm, she sighed before pushing herself off the ground.

Clenching her hand experimentally and testing the pull on her skin, it wasn’t so painful, only slightly stinging and would have to be cleaned later to ensure that it wouldn’t get infected. The girl frowned slightly at the tear in her robe making a mental note to sew it later before turning back the way she came with a brief look at the siren on the ground.

Shaking her head slightly at the guilt settling in the pit of her stomach she thought of what may have happened had the sirem been able to put her under the spell of her song. Everard and her would be dead most likely.

With that thought in mind she trekked to where she guessed Everard would be. He seemed confused as he looked all around before spotting Rowan, “Lady Rowan! What happened… I… I can’t recall how I got here, ar-are you bleeding?”

Smiling sheepishly, the teen rubbed the back of her head, “Ah, well it appears that you fell for the lure of a siren! But no worries, I handled it. Well we’ve spent enough time delaying here, Anselm most likely knew something like this was going to happen, that manipulative old man… Either or we need to find the mage, I do not wish to stay here any longer.”

Everard nodded silently before following Rowan as she let them back to the path through the fog. They both carried on silently before continuing down the path to the split tree. There was a light murmur of voices just beyond it, one being the familiar old man they knew and the other sounding like a teenager.

Both rushed closer to the voices spotting Anselm speaking to a floating young man with strange purple eyes and hair as dark as night. Rowan did a double take, rubbing her eyes to ensure she wasn’t seeing things.

The young man was indeed floating, a dark blue robe covering a long sleeved red shirt with dark brown pants tucked into untied boots. He had a book latched onto a belt and a staff with a small crystal at the end of it.

Purple eyes shot over in their direction as Rowan and Everard approached cautiously. A smirk lit up his face as he raised his voice, “You didn’t tell me that there was going to be a lovely lady traveling with you Anselm! Of course I’ll come with! After all I am all for saving damsels in distress! Anyway, where is this supposed great hero Rowan? I don’t think it would be Mr. Knight in Shining Armor over there.”

An exasperated sigh left Anselm’s lips before doing the best impersonation of a glare that he could, “Rowan, I want you to meet Gailen, an old acquaintance of mine. Ignore any flirtations or flatterings of him, he’s the mindset of a child but he is needed for where we are going.”

The smirk lowered into a confused frown before watching the white haired girl laugh lightly saying, “I wasn’t falling for it anyway! You would leave us to deal with a siren, aren’t you just the greatest guide in the world?”

Gailen nearly fell out of the air in surprise before zooming backwards with a shocked look dancing over his features, staff pointed at the girl, “Y-You mean s-she’s… B-but! She’s practically a child, and you want to take her through the Coffin of Eternal Darkness to fight the Demonic Monster Basewin?! Are you mad old man? Has your age finally gone to your head?!”

Anselm tapped his seeing stick in annoyance before Rowan cut in,” Hey I can care for myself. Either or I plan to go, if only so I can go back to peacefully minding the graves of the dead without blind men nagging me.” 

The old man sighed before sending a pointed non-look at the girl before turning to the path they had yet to travel on, “It is time to move out, we have many places to go and being in the Forest of Fear during nighttime is not highly recommended, and it seems as though Sir Everard needs rest soon, falling under a siren’s song taps one’s strength. Now then, Gailen, are you going to join us or will I be needing to find another mage?”

Sputtering slightly Everard tried to deny the need of rest before Gailen flew up next to Rowan, studying her, eyes narrowing before a somewhat mischievous grin grew over his face, “Well I guess I’ll join, if only to see what ridiculous adventure you drag unwilling participants into again, ah brings back memories…” 

Hovering up closer to Anselm, Gailen left Rowan and Everard trailing behind them, sharing an uncertain look with one another, even if you couldn’t see Everard’s face through his helmet. Giving him a shrug, Rowan picked up her pace to walk closer to the two now leading them.


End file.
